


A Man's Man

by hazeltea (madlovescience)



Category: Red Dwarf
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-01-10
Updated: 2011-01-10
Packaged: 2017-10-14 15:54:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,994
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/150958
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/madlovescience/pseuds/hazeltea
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I'm using a prompt from lgbtfest, which I didn't have time to play with back then.</p><p>617. Red Dwarf: Arnold Judas Rimmer/David Lister. While being Ace, Rimmer is confronted with a dimensional alternate of himself that is openly gay, and in a relationship with that dimension's Lister. This awakens his long-repressed homosexuality, and in desperation, he sets out to find a way to cure it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

He’d wanted to see it, just once, through different eyes. That was what Rimmer told himself, as he shuttled towards Io, a knot forming in his stomach. He knew that he was lying to himself, in a way. The Wildfire had been the one to suggest it, and he was unable to dismiss it, knowing that she knew countless other Aces, and he certainly couldn’t let himself be beaten by that lot. He had to pass the test. Besides, the Wildfire spoke to him with such kindness, even though he knew it was a false, programmed voice. No one had ever spoken to him in such tones, not even Nirvanah. He wanted to hear that alluring, computerized voice praise him; as it always seemed to fill the void inside that he couldn’t quite identify, at least for several minutes.

He knew, in his heart, that everyone he had ever known would be long dead. He knew that there would be no confrontations, no awkward explanations. They would all be gone, that ghastly moon reverted to a deserted wasteland, and that was how it should be, after all. As far as he was concerned, no one should have set foot on Io, no matter how insane they were, or how dire their circumstances. He couldn’t remember the number of times he’d heard the story of how his ancestors had sought their fortune, fleeing Earth to become one of the oldest family lines on the moon. Mining on Io was so harsh that most families were ended before they were even conceived, after all; so three generations was nothing to sneeze at. The Rimmer family had not only survived, but thrived by Ionian standards; attaining a large yet simple house with a lavishly landscaped garden. On Io, they had what they could never afford on Earth, and the Rimmers used their modest wealth to keep up appearances, doing their best to ape the noble and wealthy on Earth and Titan. All of it would now be swept away by the fierce mineral winds that had, over time, disintegrated the shield that contained the artificial atmosphere, and Rimmer found that he was not sorry, although some distant part of himself felt guilty for the thought.

As he neared the edges of the Galilean moons’ orbits, he almost lost his nerve. He became queasy, that familiar sinking feeling grabbing hold of his gut, the same cold dread that he’d felt every summer upon his return from boarding school as he caught sight of the dull, yellowish moon in the distance. Past Callisto, past Ganymede, Europa… and oh, the nausea was growing… There it was, a ball of solid molten rock covered with a film of noxious, sulphuric gas; its peaks and craters forming greenish splotches against the fields of xanthic rust, which had always reminded him of a particularly moldy cheese, something he’d find underfoot in Lister’s quarters, long forgotten and melded to a chipped plate.

A dull headache was coming on. “I think I’ve seen enough, old girl.” He lowered his eyes, focusing on the comfortingly dull metal of the cockpit. He hoped the Wildfire wouldn’t press him to orbit, or even worse, land. “Nothing left to see, after all.” His voice slipped a little, losing its false bravado.

“Are you certain, Ace, darling? It’s very important to confront your demons.” the Wildfire purred, sensually. Rimmer bristled. What had possessed his predecessor to program this sort of new age nonsense?

“There’s plenty of real demons out there needing a good thrashing.” He replied, tersely. “Don’t you worry your pretty little processor about the likes of me.” Was this another test? Maybe Ace had believed that he should confront his so-called demons, but Ace was dead, now wasn’t he, and Arnie J. was in the cockpit. He didn’t need to subject himself to therapy from a navigation computer.

“But, Ace…”

The saccharine tone was grating on him, now. “I won’t say it again.” He snapped. “Get us out of here.”

The Wildfire was silent as the engines roared, gearing up for a jump. Rimmer fidgeted, trying to gage the level of her disapproval. His mother had been a master of this technique, leaving him to obsess for hours over his worthlessness. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat. He had to stop thinking like this! She was just a machine, a computer with less AI than Holly. She couldn’t possibly be testing him, it was all in his head.

That decided, he leaned back, and closed his eyes. When he awoke, there would be a blank slate before him, a new dimension to reinvent himself yet again.


	2. Chapter 2

“Ace, my love. Wake up, darling! You’re desperately needed!” The sultry voice, slightly hyperventilating in its urgency, cut through the haze of Rimmer’s dreams.

“Right… where?” he managed, not quite in character. He blinked and reached for the console control that would tell him how long he’d been out. Three hours.

“Plotting a course for unnamed s3 planet. Estimated eighty-four clicks to the source of distress. It’s a JMC ship, Ace.”

Rimmer sat up nervously, fully awake now. He leaned forward, adjusting the screen to the communication readout data. “It’s not Red Dwarf, is it?” he asked, clearing his throat so that he could adjust his voice.

“No, beloved.” The Wildfire replied, sweetly. Rimmer relaxed visibly, and cracked his knuckles. Maybe this was it, then. Maybe the time had come where he could prove to himself that he had the stuff that officers were made of, with or without pips. The Wildfire would accept him as Ace, and would shut the smeg up about self discovery and mental demons. “It’s a Starbug. The JMC vessel, Starbug 1, has sustained damage in the crash. The crew may be injured.” The Wildfire continued, smoothly.

Rimmer frowned. “As though that’s any different!” Starbug, smeg, no. He just couldn’t escape the goited thing, could he? He smoothed down his wig, nervously, hoping it hadn’t become mussed in his sleep. If he was going to go in there and face that lot looking like a total twonk, he would at least make sure the look seemed intentional.

“Starbug 1 is registered as a ship to surface vehicle, ident registration rd10519. According to my database, it is different in both design and class.” The silky voice delivered the information without a trace of snark, but rather, a breathy hitch. Rimmer found it infuriating.

“You’re doing this on purpose.” He accused.

“I don’t understand, darling.” The Wildfire breathed. “Why are you angry with me?” The simulated voice keened, in girlish distress.

“You know full well.” Rimmer growled. “It’s not… cute, you know.” He never thought he would miss Holly, he mused. A brief silence followed.

“Twenty six clicks.” The Wildfire sniffed.

Oh, for smeg’s sake… “Thanks, old love. Don’t know what I’d do without you.” Rimmer patted the dash reassuringly, and was rewarded by the purr of the engine under his hard light hand. Rimmer watched and waited as they landed, his heart skipping slightly as Starbug came into view, battered but stubbornly whole. “Wish me luck, girl.” He murmured, as he slung the first aid kit he kept under the seat across his back.

“I love you, Ace.” She responded, as he knew that she would. “Be careful, my love, please!”

The bug lay on its side, its engines silent. Rimmer climbed onto it, and pried open the release hatch on the main door. He dropped down in the main corridor, and felt around in the darkness. He knew Starbug well enough to maneuver around it blind, but sideways was a different story altogether. His sight adjusted to the dark enough to see movement ahead, and he heard a groan escape from the back. Cautiously, he made his way towards the muffled whimper, finding Lister in a heap against the ceiling. His own counterpart had cushioned the impact, he could see a limp, hard light arm snaked abound Lister’s waist, shielding him from the worst. Right, both dazed. Lister was more vulnerable, being human, so he carefully extracted him from the tangle of hologramatic limbs and accessed the damage. There was a nasty bruise forming along Lister’s forearm, and he had taken a blow to the side of the head. No broken bones, though, that was a good sign. Rimmer opened the first aid kit and carefully dabbed at the scrape above Lister’s ear with a cotton ball and peroxide, squinting to access the severity of the wound in the near dark. Lister groaned again, and Rimmer propped him up, gently. “All right, Listy, it’s not that bad.” He said, in response to the confused moan that seemed to be almost a question. “Just a bit concussed, you’ll be fine.” He was relieved that he wouldn’t have to administer stitches, although he had memorized the Emergency Response Manual for Officers, the thought of pushing a needle through layers of living flesh made him feel queasy.

Lister rested his head against his chest, just under his chin. “Arn…” he slurred. Rimmer stiffened in surprise at the unfamiliar sensation of Lister’s lips against his throat. Lister’s arms twined around his neck.

“Er. Well.” Rimmer knew that he should shove him off, but he was injured, surely that would be a bad idea. Besides, it felt rather nice to be held… Rimmer blushed at that thought, and he patted Lister’s back in a friendly manner. “I should see to the Cat.” Lister had curled closer, the other being miserable in his pain and discombobulation and in need of comfort.

Suddenly, a vice-like hand was at his throat, and Lister was torn from him. The hologram had shaken off his own haze and was glaring down at the intruder. “Well, if it isn’t Mister smug git Ace Rimmer himself.” He snarled, as he stood, lifting Lister in his arms.

Rimmer rose to his feet, suppressing the irritation that the distain of his doppelganger raised in him. He would not be the sort of Ace that he’d hated. He refused. He had no idea of how to do that, though, without showing his own true nature. With a sigh, he decided that the mask would do for now.

“Looks like you’ve gotten yourselves in a pit of a pickle, Arnie.” He said, as amiably as he could manage.

This earned him a glare from his counterpart. “And you had nothing to do with it, is that so.” He laid Lister down, carefully arranging his limbs.

“Actually, that is so.” Rimmer replied, telling himself to be patient. He was the enemy now, he had to remember that. “I picked up a distress call from your ship, and thought I should lend a hand.”

“Right.” The response was dripping with sarcasm. Rimmer bristled. He hadn’t said anything wrong! He’d toned Ace down as much as he could, no condescending comments, no smoke me a bloody kipper… why was his alternate looking at him as though he were scum growing on the bottom of slime?

“No time for this, Arn. Let’s take care of the Cat and see about getting the Bug back into the big black.” Rimmer gathered up his first aid kit and did his best to ignore the daggers being thrown his way. The quicker he worked, the faster he could leave this awful dimension.


	3. Chapter 3

Lister groaned as he became more aware of his surroundings, and thus, more aware of his pain. He strained to remember what had caused it, wincing as his mind returned memories of Starbug’s controls going haywire, his heart in his throat as his body was thrown up, and back... and strong, hard light arms griping him from behind, shielding him, as always. Worry sunk into his stomach. Rimmer, in his hard light form, was resilient, but Lister could never help fretting that one day, his luck might run out. He squinted through his swollen eye, and was relieved to see a familiar faint glow. “Rimmer…” he croaked out.

“I’m here.” A hand clasped his, firmly.

Lister allowed himself a small smile as he gingerly sat up, supported by the hologram. “Is everyone all right?” he managed, leaning against the other’s chest, musing how calming and comforting the familiar, faint vibration of the light bee could be.

“Nothing that can’t be fixed. We can’t say the same about Starbug quite yet.” Rimmer kissed his temple, gently, avoiding the bruise.

“Right.” Lister stood up carefully. His head ached and throbbed from the inside and out, but this wasn’t the time or place to complain. “We’d better see what can be done.”

Rimmer regarded him with an odd expression, it was as though he were sucking on a lemon while trying to recall a bit of trivia. “I don’t like the look of that bump. You’d better take it easy and let the rest of us sort it out.” Rimmer draped the faded Titan Hilton blanket around his shoulders, and gently eased him back onto the makeshift pallet of bedclothes he’d constructed.

Lister struggled to sit up. He knew this sort of behavior well, although it usually manifested in Kryten. Rimmer wasn’t telling him the whole truth. “Something’s gone wrong, hasn’t it? Like, really smegging wrong? Tell me.”

His imagination conjured all sorts of feasible scenarios. They were stranded. They were under attack by rogue simulants or crazed GELFs. Starbug had no power-and was three quarters deep in quicksand. All of these seemed likely situations; perhaps he was even being a bit optimistic in his predictions.

Rimmer flexed his fingers together nervously. “No, no, everything’s shipshape. Er, rather, a shape approximating a ship. We’ll sort it out.” he assured Lister, with a forced, eerie smile. “Now you just rest up, and-“

Lister shrugged off the blanket. “Tell me.”

Rimmer shook his head. “Lister-“

“Rimmer.” Lister stood. “What aren’t you telling me?”

Rimmer was quiet for just a moment, and then turned away, regarding him from the corner of his eye with something halfway between a pout and a scowl. “Ace is here.” He growled.

“Ace?” Hope rose in Lister. They weren’t going to die, after all!

“Yes, Ace smegging-smoke-me-a-kipper-sodding-git Rimmer.” Rimmer’s eyes narrowed.

Lister sighed. “Look, Arn… I know how you feel about him, but he’s a nice guy, and he’s gonna get us out of whatever mess we’re in. Can’t you just be civil?”

“Civil.” Rimmer snarled. “I’m always civil. He’s the one sauntering around in that ridiculous costume insulting people. Everything he says is a trite, self congratulating expression of snide gittiness.”

“He doesn’t insult people!” Lister protested. “You goad him, and no matter what he says, you take it the wrong way.”

Rimmer’s nostrils flared, and his lip pulled back to reveal gnashed teeth. “You’re perfectly willing to let yourself be sweet talked, aren’t you. You’ll go out there, half dazed, and let the Rectum Ranger use his pompous lines on you. Next thing you know, you’ll be off for a bit of doughnut punching in the cockpit.” Rimmer let the seething irritation he felt seep into each word. He rested his hands on his hips and faced Lister, defiantly.

Rimmer looked smug, which only added to the incredulous outrage beginning to stir in Lister’s chest. Sucking in his breath, he raised his eyes to the other. “Do you really think that, then?” he began. “I know you and he have got some bad blood between you, but don’t you bring me into this. I’ve been nothing but faithful.” Lister focused on keeping his tone low and even.

Rimmer stubbornly held his ground. “You haven’t exactly been spoilt for choice.”   
A cold silence followed, and he was certain that he’d gone too far. Lister’s muscles tensed, his eyes narrowed, and Rimmer flinched, sensing that the human was going to deck him. Instead, Lister glared, and shoved him hard before storming out the door.

Rimmer winced as his shoulder connected with the smooth steel wall. “Lister!”

“Smeg off!” Lister barked, not looking back.


	4. Chapter 4

Lister was still fuming to himself when he caught sight of Ace. The man was reassembling some part of the navigation controls with a screwdriver, surveying his work before switching tools with a slight frown of concentration. Every movement was precise, so like his lover, yet so very different. Lister felt his heart flutter a bit in admiration before he could control it. He sternly scolded himself that would not even flirt, much less prove Rimmer’s suspicions right, assuring himself that it was to prove Rimmer wrong. His anger was too fresh for him to want to admit that he knew it was just as much that he refused to willingly hurt the hologram; if Lister lost his hard earned trust, he knew that he might never regain it.

Ace looked up, and smiled that heroic grin that made Lister’s stomach flip. “How’s the bump, Davey-boy?” he asked, flipping his meticulously highlighted hair from his deep hazel eyes.

Smegging hell, he was behaving like a schoolgirl. “Fine, thanks to you, Ace.” He replied, shuffling towards him. “I figured I’d lend a hand, less trouble for you.”

“No trouble at all.” Ace replied, and Lister cocked his head, sure that he’d heard a bit more of Arn than Ace in that voice. He sighed as he began to assist with the re-installation of the console.

“What’s eating you, Skipper?” Ace asked after a moment, hoisting the unit into place gracefully. It was a job that would have required the strength of at least three humans. Lister sucked in his breath. His Rimmer could do the same, he reminded himself. This was just misplaced lust.

“Nothing… just…” There was something about Ace that made you vulnerable, Lister realized. Something about the man that made you want to rely on him, be protected by him; trust him with your problems, knowing that he would set your entire world right. Lister hesitated, but when he glanced up, he met Ace’s green tinged eyes and found that he couldn’t look away.

“Had a bit of a row with Arn.” He admitted, looking down. “You know how he is around you.”

“Ah.” Ace looked mildly uncomfortable.

“It’s not your fault.” Lister said, hurriedly. “I know he probably said some awful things to you. Just don’t pay any attention. I mean, we all really appreciate you helping us out and all.”

Ace shrugged. “It’s understandable.” For a moment he paused, and it appeared that he wanted to say more. Finally, Ace looked down, busying himself with the control panel.

“He’s jealous.” Lister murmured. With good reason, a part of him nagged.

“Yes, we established that last time, I’m afraid.” Rimmer was certain that the last time had been the same sort of ordeal that he had been through with Ace.

“Yeah, well, he wasn’t my man back then.” Lister replied, sneaking a sidelong glace at Ace, who fumbled with his screwdriver.

“Pardon?” Ace asked, in a slightly more Rimmerish tone than he’d intended.

Lister looked as awkward as Rimmer felt. “Yeah, I figured I ought t’warn you. It’s only fair that you know why he’s at your throat.” It was the right thing to do, but Lister felt out of place having to explain his relationship, something that had evolved on his own terms and felt natural and comfortable when not being laid out to judge by an outsider.

“So… you and he…” Ace made an uncertain gesture with his hands, settling on locking his fingers together.

Lister smirked. ”Yeah. That and a couple other body parts.”

“I see.” Ace replied, looking stunned.

Lister looked up at him. “Don’t feel weird about it, or anything. I mean… it’s him I want, even though you’re him. Only not.” Smeg, he was babbling like an idiot now!

Ace seemed to come out of his stupor, then. “No worries, Skipper. I’m just… surprised. “

“You and your Lister weren’t like that, I know. Things happen, I’d just hate for you to…” what? Lister wondered. Be repulsed by him? Yes, that was what he was going for. He’d be sorely disappointed if Ace began to avoid him. “To be uncomfortable.” He finished, in an attempt to not sound as self centered as he was.

“So you fought about me.” Ace said, simply, not meeting his gaze any longer.

“Well, yeah.” Lister replied. “I mean… you’re amazing…” Lister shifted on his feet. “He thinks I’ll run off with you or something.”

“Did you tell him that you wouldn’t?” Ace asked, as he tightened the screws on the interface display.

“I shouldn’t have to!” he cried. “He should trust me.” Lister scowled. “After all we’ve been through…”

“You never told him that you wouldn’t.” Ace said, quietly. “You say how amazing I am, but you never told him how amazing you think he is, now did you? ”

“He should know. He should know all of that.” Lister said, softly. “He knows I’m with him. He knows.”

Ace looked annoyed, for just a split second. “He doesn’t know. Trust me.”

Lister nodded, unsure of what else to say, and unsure of his feelings. Ace was right, of course. He knew all about Rimmer’s insecurities. He couldn’t expect the other to be well adjusted, or even halfway sane when it came to their relationship, or any relationship, for that matter. Slowly, he felt the anger drain from him, replaced by a tender pang of sympathy for the man that he loved.

Ace stood, wiping imaginary dust from his hands. “Good as new, Davey-boy.” He grinned.

Lister ran his hand over the console, now glowing reassuringly with light. “Heh.” He smiled at Ace, and was rewarded with a small grin in return. What a guy.

*****************************

Rimmer’s heart was thundering as he turned to exit Starbug after saying his goodbyes. Had the Wildfire brought him here on purpose? She seemed set on making him uncomfortable, after all. Was she simply seeing how much he could take before he had an electronic aneurism? Maybe that was it! Maybe she secretly wanted a new Ace, and was trying to kill him.

“Not so fast, my old fruit salad.” Rimmer winced as his own voice echoed in the corridor behind him. “You and I have to set something straight before you go.”

 _Just keep going_ , Rimmer’s common sense told him, but Ace made him freeze, and turn. “And that would be?” _I helped you, you ungrateful pile of fetid smeg_ , he cursed silently. _Just go back to Lister and do… whatever it is that I don’t want to think about, that I suddenly can’t stop thinking about._

He paled as his alternate held up his left hand, displaying a faintly glowing hologramatic ring. “The last human alive has sworn his life to me.” He replied, smugly. “What have you got, then?” His eyes gleamed in a way that Rimmer had never seen in his own expression. That ring, and what it represented, was clearly the center of this unbalanced man’s world.

“He chose me, Ace. Me! When he could have had any of them, any of those disks. He refused Kochanski’s disk. I serve and protect humanity every bit as much as you, you know, without the thanks. If you make a mistake, it’s regrettable, now isn’t it? It doesn’t have to be the end. But you see, I don’t have that sort of luxury. If I make a mistake, it’s extinction.” Hazel eyes narrowed with a meanness that was thoroughly recognizable, this time. “You look down on me as though you’re so much better, and maybe you are, maybe you’re everything that I failed to be. Just remember this when you think about your Lister. Just remember what I have.” With a self satisfied snarl, his alternate spun elegantly on one heel and clicked down the corridor.

Rimmer felt his stomach sink. He had to get out of there. He was fairly sure that he was losing his mind. With that sole thought, he broke into a brisk run towards the questionable safety of the Wildfire.


End file.
